Mass Explosions
by MrNot
Summary: In the future, most races do not think of death and explosions as "funny" or as "a nice afternoon". Mankind is not most races. There will be punching and things blowing up. Everything else follows from that.


"Well gentlemen, I ,for one, am glad that we have been cooped up together for the last few days. Indeed, I am overjoyed that I have been unable to go back to my loving wife and children and instead have been granted the pleasure of your company." said a wiry, clean shaven man.

"You know Udina, you can -bleep- yourself with a -bleep- while your -bleep- -bleep- of a wife -bleep- herself with a -bleep- -bleep- -bleep- -ing -bleep-! None of us want to still be here, but that -bleep- of a Council wants a list of -bleep- -ing Spectre candidates, and I'll be -bleep- -ed if we don't take advantage of this for all it's worth!" The grizzled military man's speech was infested with the type of censoring that would be typical in a R-rated movie re-released for a younger audience, yet managed to deliver all of its intended vitriol.

" Ah yes, Hackett, how are you enjoying that censor box wired to your vocal cords? You know, the Alliance asked me what they should do about your _problem_ with diplomacy. I do believe that my little suggestion was much better than their intended solution. _PR training_". The last two words were said with no small amount of disgust.

"WHY YOU LITTLE-!"

"Gentlemen, Gentlemen, you can't fight here, this is a war room." The third man cut off his colleague, both in the middle of his outburst as well as his attempt to leap from his chair and strangle Donnel Udina to within an inch of his life, and then perhaps a little further. "Look, we're all at our limits, but just try and last a little longer: we cut out a few more names, hire a few assassins to clear out someone else's choices, and we'll have a short enough list to satisfy the Council."

" You make a good point Anderson, I suppose I can bless you both with my presence for an hour or two more"

" FINE! But as soon as that list goes through to that -bleep- Council, I'm taking that -bleep- over there and -bleep- -ing his entrails with a -bleep- and a -bleep- and finally I'll -bleep- his -bleep- with a rusty spoon!"

" Yes, yes, whatever, I really don't care anymore what you two do as long as I don't have to get involved. Now, what are the remaining candidates that we probably WON'T immediately have killed after this meeting?"

" Well, there is Steven-" Udina began, only to be cut off by Hackett.

"NOPE! Having him killed with a broadsword right after I get out of this -bleep- of a -bleep-. There can only be ONE important Steven, and it isn't going to be him!"

"Fine then, what about Saratoga Khan? Let's see here: trained as a commando, has a military background; her mother, Hannah Khan, serves on the SSV Kilimanjaro, and despite her _difficulties_ with orders, she is very effective getting things done.."

" Wasn't she the one who managed to -bleep- that thresher to teeny little pieces with all those transports full of explosives? That was -bleep- -ing AWESOME

"Yes, that was her all right" said Anderson checking his notes, " She was also noted as offering to, and I quote, "Punch the fucking daylights out of any mother-fucking asshole who has a problem with the fact that I "borrowed" those transports to save their lives". Spectre status will probably suit her well; they are, after all, supposed to operate all on their own."

"Very well, she's number one on the list." Udina scanned the paper he had in front of him, ignoring the little doodles he had of a dead Hackett, " Next, I think we can all agree that Nathan Lovel is suitable. A bit of a rough case, grew up on one of the border planets. One hell of a crack shot, and I don't think I need to remind anyone here of his actions in rooting out those pirates over on Echo."

"It was a -bleep- of a -bleep- over on Echo, but he made those -bleep- -ing Batarians pay! He's got my -bleep- vote!"

"Alright, fine, I agree, let's recommend Lovel, he's got the results to back him up, and people like him, they see him as tough, ready and willing to make his enemies pay." Anderson conceded.

_Finally,_ thought Udina, "Now there is room for one more person, but since I don't see anyone else that one of us won't have murdered on principle, I think we're done here."

Udina and Hackett both rose from their chairs, visibly relieved that they could finally leave, only to be stopped by Anderson who motioned for them to sit down.

"There is... one more candidate, that I can think of, and I think he would make a good fit."

At this point, Udina was too aggravated to care. Did Anderson really think that he would spend several days arguing with the gorilla that was Hackett to agree to a last minute addition?

"You can just forward that name to one of several mercenary squads I have on commission, you'll save us both time that way."

"They won't be able to handle him." That got Udina's attention. Someone that Anderson was sure could survive anything that he, Donnel Udina, could send at him? No one was that good. No one except...

" No, out of the question. I'll admit, he does have the blood of heroes in him, but we absolutely cannot advocate him. And if he does get picked over Khan and Lovel, he's not even military! Do you have any idea what kind of controversy would come about? The public would start believing all those conspiracy theories, not to mention what all the corporations will do ! They won't just stop at killing us, Anderson, they'll make sure to raze the universe of our existence!"

" Hey, wait, are we talking about that -bleep- of a -bleep..." Even Hackett, as unrestrained as he normally was, could not help the worry from inching into his voice.

"They want our best, and goddammit, no one can deny his skills. And if we don't nominate him, everyone is going to start talking about how we're afraid of that group**.** Not to mention the fact that the Council will take it as a sign that we can't control our own people. I don't think I need to remind you two of how much we need to stop the Council from making side deals with corporations."

"Fine, but whatever happens from a result of this... it'll be on your head, Anderson/"

"I'll have to take those odds." Anderson responded. " So it's agreed then, the third Spectre candidate that we'll nominate will be..." He paused from dramatic impact...

"Spit it the -bleep- out, or I'll do it for you!"

"Fine, fine. Our last candidate is... Shepard."

As a Council Spectre, Nihlus Kyrik was used to waiting long periods of time for his target to appear. He was also used to assignments where practically everything seemed to be damned by the Spirits. He was not, however, used to the anomaly that were humans. They were relative newcomers to the galactic stage, but that did not seem to encourage them to slow down and show respect to the older, more experienced species. Instead, they surged out like hungry varren itching for fresh meat, taking whatever planets were available for colonization, and several that weren't. The Council would normally have intervened over those planets in the Skyllian Verge, but the Batarians hadn't been doing anything with them, nor could they provide any concrete plans for the region in question, and the Council had hoped to get the Batarians to make concessions in exchange for the Council _convincing_ the humans that it wasn't in their best interests to take the contested planets. The Batarians, however, felt that they should not have to beg to keep what was rightfully theirs, and so they decided to drive the humans out by force. Of course, the Batarians were not stupid enough to openly declare war on the humans, which would have given the Council the excuse it needed to intrude in the business of two species that were not a part of itself. Instead, and Nihlus had seen the STG reports to back his claims up, the Batarians had decided to fund pirates and raiders to indulge in their brutality against the humans in an attempt to drive them out. Pure foolishness in his opinion, the Batarians had to have known about the Relay 314 conflict between the Turians and the Humans. Did they think that the Turians had been fooling around? There was a reason that humans were currently and independent race and not another client of the turians. No matter their reasoning, the Batarians awoke a veritable hornet's nest, as the human saying went. Human citizens in newly colonized planets, or borderlands as they tended to call them, were used to fighting for their lives against the bandits who tended to migrate away from any bastion of law and order. The human bandits, by the way, did not appreciate the competition, nor did they like the fact that attention was being drawn to them. The pirates, used to having to overcome small militias at best, were caught off guard by the fact that wherever they landed, they were welcomed by hails of gunfire. Overcoming that, they had to deal with people who felt that sanity was an insult to their very being. Nihlus had an involuntary shudder at that, he had assaulted bandit compounds to rescue VIPs who had decided to go "adventuring" or otherwise recover things that the bandits had somehow stumbled over. If he was lucky, he would just be dealing with those who thought there was nothing better than emptying their clips in a warm body, and would turn on their fellows for a few laughs; if he was unlucky, there were the ones who somehow thought kamikaze suicide by grenade was a winning strategy, or worse, the ones who didn't need their heads that attached to their bodies. To their credit, the Batarian funded pirates and slavers had stuck around despite this, their motivations switching from profit to making the humans pay. The universe, however, was not done with them however, and they finally managed to anger the human mega-corporations that were doing business in the area. That... had pretty much spelled the end for Batarian funded action in the area. Those corporations had managed to turn cruelty into an art form, and had the military force to show it to the slavers first hand. The Batarians did not even manage their goal of weakening the Systems Alliance military as the corporations stepped in to defend their interests.

The corporations were another interesting point about the humans. They wielded power that would never be allowed to companies under Council protection, they were barely regulated by the human's governing body, the Systems Alliance. To this end, the Council had reached out to them, hoping to secure for themselves some of the Eridian technology that humans used instead of Prothean artifacts, but that had led to a complete dead end. That seemed to be the one thing that all humans were united in, they were loath to part with any Eridian artifacts no matter what. Personally, Nihlus didn't blame them that much; the Council races had a similar view on Prothean relics: any sharing of such things often came attached with numerous political strings, and were never without a heavy guard from the race that claimed ownership.

Just then, a sudden noise interrupted Nihlus from his musings. A ship had came into the private dock that he was currently waiting in. He glanced at the title to ensure that it was the one that he had been waiting for, and sure enough, he noted the name, the _SSV Normandy_ inscribed on the side. Frigate sized and utilizing a new stealth system, the _SSV Normandy_ represented an olive branch between the Turian and Human races. The best engineers of both races had come together to create a new class of frigate, and had carefully selected personnel to crew the ship. Nihlus himself was only going to be a temporary passenger, but was to help create an additional link between the two cultures: he was to judge if one of three noted humans were to be considered for Spectre status. Personally, Nihlus thought he would end up finding one of them worthy; the odds of an entire species not having one elite individual was statistically impossible. The ship completed its docking procedure, and clamped securely to the berth. Slowly the door opened, and Nihlus wondered whether he would be greeted by a human or a fellow turian. However, he was taken completely by surprise by what greeted him from the ship.

"YES!YES!YES! WE ARE HERE! HERE! HERE! Here?" The last word was spoken with a note of confusion, as if the speaker had come to question the words that were coming out of his mouth. "Where is the badass bird?! I gotta meeessssaaaggge for hiiiiiiimmmm!" This last phrase was spoken in an eery sing-song tone of voice, but Nihlus was too used to strange situations to allow himself to taken back. Looking at the speaker, he noted that they wore a mask with curious markings on it.

" I am Nihlus Kyrik, are you the one that has come to greet me? I don't suppose you are Khan, Lovel, or Shepard are you?"

" You assume I am the SHEPARD? THE ONE WE HAIL? You're in for a WORLD of hurt for that mistake! Shepard's gonna smash you . Shepard's gonna trash you. Shepard's gonna size you up and cut you down. Shepard's gonna, Shepard's gonna-" Whatever the human intended to say was cut off by a gunshot that pierced their leg and caused them to writhe on the ground in agony.

" That's MR. Shepard"

**Blitz Shepard**

-Isn't this guy supposed to be our hero?-

The shooter came out the opening, and turned to face Nihlus. He was tall for a human, with black eyes and short hair. In addition, he had what Nihlus had learned was called a buzz-axe attached to the back of his pants. "I suppose you're Nihlus Kyrik? I'm Shepard, here to welcome you to the _SSV Normandy,_ Lovel and Khan would have joined me, but some issues came up that needed their attention. Follow me, I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew. We already have quarters set aside from you, but I hope you don't mind sharing the same food as the rest of the turians we have aboard."

It was at times like these, Nihlus was glad of his experience. Shepard didn't seem too bothered by his casual shooting of another, so he too tried to ignore it, but could not resist turning to get a better look at the downed human.

"Don't bother with that one, Psychos only learn through pain. I will, however, tell you that the few you'll see on the ship listen to me, and only me, so don't bother trying to order them about."

Nihlus nodded slowly along with what the human was saying, but could not help wondering, what type of people were the human side of the crew like?

Stereotypes sucked. Sometimes, admittedly, they were fun, like when people thought they could drink you under the table just because you were a woman. Most times, however, they led to bullshit situations, like people assuming just because you were a commando who used a turret, you were some kind of engineering genius. Such was the situation a red headed woman currently found herself facing.

"FOUND THE PROBLEM!" she screamed, " You fuck-heads! How many times have I told you? Don't eat food over the console!" The engineer she was addressing looked away sheepishly.

"Do you guys know what kind of shit we would have been in if the gravity devices had completely failed while we were out in deep space? The answer is deep. Deep Shit." The speaker crawled out from underneath the console and drew herself to her full height, an imposing 5' 4".

**Saratoga Khan**

-She ain't your friend, palooka-

"For being such dumb-asses, I get a couple of punches on each of you. Come on, stand up straight and don't take it like a pussy." The engineers in charge of the gravity machines tried to back away, but found themselves cornered, and surrendered to the idea that they would be unable to feel their arms for the week. However, before she could land a decent hit on one of them, a heavyset man with what seemed to be a metal helmet bolted onto his shoulders muscled into the room.

"Message for pretty lady! Badass bird on board! Shepard want you coming. Now" The Goliath managed to somehow complete the message, which from his body language, seemed to surprise him as much as everybody else.

"What?! Fucking shit! Alright, I gotta go check this fucker out. You assholes get off for now, but keep your arms fucking ready." Saratoga turned and left the engineering core, and made her way to the elevator. Noticing that the Goliath had followed her, she faced him and asked, "Lovel, he'll have to know this too, can you go get him?" Most people would have been surprised by her speech lacking her usual swears, however, the fact that she had personally seen this goliath go into a berserk rage and massacre an entire squad of Eclipse mercenaries, she felt obliged to be particularly nice to him.

" Was told first." Saratoga whirled around quickly, barely suppressing a shout as she saw the speaker, a tall figure clad in armor, step out of some nearby shadows.

**Nathan Lovel**

**-**Enemies never see him coming-

"Fucking Christ, Lovel, you scared me, you gotta stop this habit of _lurking_ on the ship. It's goddamn creepy!" Saratoga snapped at him,

" Apologies. Next time shall announce my presence with parade and streamers for the scared little girl"

"My turret'll scared-little-girl you, you assfuck."

"Future will decide. Trade jibes later. Now, go see Turian Spectre that we have been told to ferry about like cheap taxi."  
" Fine, whatever."

Despite how the exchange went, most people on the ship agreed that this was one of Lovel's better relationships on the _SSV Normandy_. It was to be expected. Not only was he the infamous "Wraith of Echo", there was also the fact that he was a Number, a member of a secretive group that never removed their armor in the presence of others. In fact, common opinion was that they never removed their armor at all. However, that was a minor rumor compared to many of the things that were said about what they might be. The elevator slowly ascended to the main floor of the Normandy. Briefly, Saratoga wondered whether or not to begin a conversation with Lovel, but decided against it; there was no way the elevator ride would be long enough for them to finish any discussion in time. It was a bit regrettable though, she knew nothing about him, not even his name. Nathan Lovel was just a name that the Alliance higher-ups had given for the press to reduce any questions about why a Number was working for the military. For convenience's sake, they had been calling Nathan a he, but no one knew how accurate that particular judgment was . However, he wasn't the worst crew member; if Saratoga had to pick, it would have to be that bastard Shep-

"And these are Nathan Lovel and Saratoga Khan. In case you were wondering, Lovel's the one in the armor and Khan's the one with the beret."

And there the fucker was. Along with a turian, must be Nihlus. Ah, shit, might as well introduce herself. "Pleasure to meetcha, Name's Khan, Saratoga Khan. I'm the XO of this ship"

" It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance XO, and I assume you are lieutenant Lovel? It is good to meet you as well."

" Likewise."

Shepard re-entered the conversation at this point. "Don't mind Lovel too much, he's very... taciturn."

"I tend not to judge soldiers by their words, but by their actions, I suppose I shall come to know you people very well in the coming days and weeks. Where is Commander Anderson? I shall need to have a chat with him."

"Khan can guide you to him, I need to deal with a few personnel issues."  
And there he went, taking the goliath with him. That mother-fucking asshole. Saratoga had her reasons for hating Shepard, some that were irrational, and some that were very irrational, but still, hey, one had to have some kind of illogical fallacies to rely on. Otherwise, you went mad trying to be a saint to every poor cocksucker down on their luck.

"Alright, follow me, Anderson's on the command deck." That turian was a quiet motherfucker. Not that surprising, considering he was supposed to be one of their very best. But still, she knew that he was following her, but unless she actually looked back, she had trouble believing herself.

"That module on your belt, I assume it is your primary support?" Ah, a question, finally some speech from the bird. That's right, it's a turret, Dahl-make. You touch it, and we're not friends anymore. 'Course that is assuming that you don't accidentally activate it, and I'm left with swiss turian."

"Hmm, you have that much confidence in it then?"  
"I'd better. As a commando, deployable turrets are our bread-and butter. When you're behind enemy lines, and there's a thousand of their bastards tearing ass to get at you, you thank whatever you believe in that you got one of these. I've turned platoons into mincemeat with my baby here."

"I'll be sure to leave it alone then."

And that was it. Crap, did she say something wrong? Eh, what did it matter? They'd drop the bird off somewhere, make it back to port and get tasks to prove how humans and turians could work together like a bunch of different schoolkids shoved into Saturday detention. Well, they had managed to make it to the CIC. So, she pointed him at Anderson, and made her way back to the lower deck to speak to Lovel about their new guest. With his habit of lurking in dark corners, and the way that the turian crew had been so eager to have this damn Spectre on board, there was a good chance he had picked up some interesting information. She didn't bother trying to stick around and hear any stray threads of conversation: the crew members that normally surrounded Anderson had already got that covered. If she tried to intrude, she would have been instantly been marked as some kind of outsider. Stepping out of the elevator, she checked for Lovel, certain that he wouldn't have gone far, only to see no sign of him.

"Looking for someone?" To her credit, Saratoga did not jump or show any outward signs of stress. Of course, every internal system was screaming to shoot the ass. He had a goddamn _talent_ for scaring the hell out of people.

"Yeah, you. About our new passenger... you hear anything on one of your little 'walks' around the ship?"

" Rumor hear, rumor there. Supposedly took out entire Batarian slaving ring on one of Passeridae's moons. Another says he posed as a high-ranking member of the Blue Suns for over two months to kill a handful of their upper leadership. Nothing concrete. Nothing _certain_. All could be wrong. Don't know, can't know. We'll have to see and judge." This was probably the longest speech Saratoga had ever heard from the Number. He must be as curious about their passenger as she was. Might as well go grab Shepard and shake him down for information as well. As much as she disliked the man, she had to admit that his information networks were likely to best of anyone's on the ship. She knew where he would be too. He had left a bit too quickly, which meant that some problem had come up with his pet psychopaths. And if he had gone to deal with them, that meant he was in their corner of the ship, aka the cargo hold.

"Now gentlemen, as we can see, our good friend Slap here has demonstrated the completely wrong way to interact with newcomers to the ship. We do not ' shoot em real fast in the head, then leg it before the enforcers come'. For his stupidity, I have broken his arm in four places, and his leg in five. Would anyone care to give the right answer. Yes, you Chop." Shepard pointed to a random psycho who had raised his hand slowly.

"Shove a buzz axe into his throat and laugh?" At these words several others around began to nod their heads sagely, while stroking their chins. Of course that was the answer, it was so obvious now. Why hadn't they said that?

"No"

"EEAAGGHHH! MY PAIN IS A FOUNTAIN!"

"Next taker?"

There he was, disciplining those fuckers who worshiped the ground he stood on. She had to admit, Shepard had one hell of a record when it came to fighting, but she had never seen him _do _anything. Instead, she had seen him leave most of the fighting to his men. That had gradually reduced her excitement at fighting with him to a deep-running resentment of the man. However, she did give him credit for managing to reign in people that the majority of the galaxy had written off as complete wild cards. To be fair, you didn't have to be crazy to be a bandit, but it sure helped.

"Ah, Ms. Khan, a pleasure to see you. Well, gentlemen, your lesson in etiquette will have to wait. I must speak with the ship's XO." The group dispersed at his orders. To Saratoga, it looked like they divided into rings and were busy having punching matches. She had seen them do this before, but when she asked, they simply responded with the words, "Rule number 1", and walked away without giving any information away. Even breaking a few of their bones did nothing to help. And it came with the side effect of Shepard sticking his nose into her business, which was something that she definitely did not need.

"Well, how can I help you, XO Khan?" Even his damn politeness had become quite grating.

" Know anything about this Nihlus guy? No one seems to know anything but bullshit."

"All rumors contain a grain of the truth. But to speak perfect honesty, what I know for sure is that he was born to one of less settled planets of the Turian Hierarchy. Son of a mercenary, he was distrusted by his peers, but his unorthodox methods led to high success rates for his missions. To that end, he was eventually scouted to be a Spectre. One of their most decorated now."

Great. Someone who had something to prove who had managed to prove it. Those were the worst in her opinion, they felt that they had succeeded, so everybody should be able to do it as well.

"Anything else?"

Ugh, that damned politeness again. Well, he had helped her out, being rude would just be an asshole move. "Nah, I'm good."

"Very well then, if you don't mind, I need to get back to drilling my men on certain procedures. Luckily, I have spotted my laser drill while we were talking. I think this shall go faster than originally anticipated."

Saratoga walked away, and tried her very best to ignore the sounds of screams that emanated from behind her.

The Normandy suddenly had a sudden increase in speed that Saratoga had come to associate to the ship switching to full throttle and forcing the Chronos drive to full effect. That had been one of the main human contributions. Instead of relying on a pure mass effect core, they had provided a monstrous engine that worked by slightly misaligning the Normandy with its home dimension, allowing it to give a brief fuck you to the regular laws of physics. This allowed more power to be drawn to other areas on the ship, like the life-support systems or the shields.. The Normandy was also primarily a stealth ship, and so the less heat that was generated meant it took a longer time for the heat to build up before it needed to all be ejected.

Making her way to the pilot's seat, Saratoga noted the pilot seemingly tapping the controls at random. Turning to face him, she called his name:

"JOKER!"

**Joker**

-With a name like that, it's gonna be a long ride-

" 'EEYUP! You done called me Khan? Ah don't really know whatchu want, but if y'all gimme the word, ah'll get on it as soon as I git this job dun fer Captain Anderson". The thin bearded man turned around in his chair to face her. Khan had learned that he suffered from Vrolik's syndrome, which made his bones extremely brittle, yet he refused to accept any sympathy. It was unlikely he would have actually gotten any from the various people on board the ship, but still, she had to respect that spirit.

"First of all, I know you can speak better than that. Just because we might finally have a proper mission, it doesn't mean you get free range to slip back into Hodunk speak. Two, where the hell exactly is it that we're going?" Ah, that was another trait that bore mentioning. Joker was technically Joker Hodunk, although his family had long since been disowned, but the mechanical genius that was all too common in the family had made themselves known in him.

"Well, Ah figger-" a glare from Khan immediately caused him to begin his sentence again, " I mean, I know where we're going is the Rimbor System. So, wherever we're going, it's not going to be a flat out assault. Corporations would be up our ass. Even with the protection we've got. So, my advice? Get prettied up. Chances are it's going to be a covert operation."

_Fuck. _One of those. Well, that'd explain the Spectre they had on board. He could cause trouble, or be discreet, and the Alliance would have someone to point fingers at if it all went to shit.

"I reckon' we gots bout a coupla hours 'for we git to there, so's you kin relaaax fer a bit."

Saratoga considered hitting him for falling back into the accent shortly after she had warned him not to, but decided to let him go in thanks for the information. Next time though, he would get punched twice as hard, Vrolik's syndrome be damned. But now, what to do? As irritating as it was for her to help repair equipment, she had to admit that it gave her something to pass the time with. It was one of the disadvantages about being called from her regular unit to serve on the damn special diplomacy ship, no fucking person to talk to. Everyone was too goddamn scared to talk to her, or was otherwise to damn annoying. That left the two people that had also been called from vastly different situations, Shepard and Lovel; Shepard's people didn't count because one, they were all lining up to suck his cock, and secondly, they were shithouse crazy to a man...thing. Lovel, on the other hand, did not so much converse with you as listen to you talk: it was good sometimes, but got on her nerves for the most part, and was not something she could stand right now. Well, that left maintenance of her equipment, the shooting range, or wasting time on the extranet. Since she had re-calibrated her turret a few hours ago, might as well go put holes in targets. With the small sigh of a person resigned to barely staving off boredom, she went to go shoot. On her way to the shooting range, however, she found herself intercepted by Lovel.

"Busy?"

"Not at the moment. Whaddya want fucker?"

"Meeting. You, me, Shepard."  
"You're on some amazing shit right now if you think I'll talk to that-." She was cut off by a wave of his hand.

"Gripes noted, but do not care. Need conversation. Bigger than petty difficulties." This was odd, Lovel normally never gave a shit about anything from what she could observe. If something was this important to him, it was probably worth it to follow.

"Fine, whatever, let's go."  
"Good. Contacted Shepard already, Meeting in his room."

His room? Saratoga had never really though about that before. She assumed that he just piled in with the rest of his horde on the crappy beds that they had somehow sneaked into the ship. It made sense though, as much as she hated him, she had to admit that he was in charge of quite a few people, and it was rare that a commanding officer and his men would sleep in the same area. Following Lovel, she walked to a lower level of the ship and walked down a short corridor that she had never really paid attention to. Nathan stopped in front of her, and knocked on the only door. Strangely enough, there was the sound of a scuffle, followed by the sound of someone kicking something and a faint tinny voice saying, "A guest? Why, I simply must tidy up..."

"XO and Lieutenant, come in. I apologize for the lack of space, but there is only so much room one can get to themselves on a ship this size." The door had suddenly opened and Shepard was there to greet them. Saratoga looked inside and noted that while the room was not that large, it seemed bigger than it actually was because so much of it was bare. Aside from a bed and a small desk with a chair, there was nothing in the room, no other person who could have possibly been talking. Well, that certainly wasn't creepy as hell and would come back to bite them in the ass later. But now was not the time to wonder such questions, Lovel had gathered them all to talk about something

"So, the reason we are all gathered in my room is..."

"Discussion on Nihlus. Why is he here?" Well, now Saratoga knew for certain what the conversation would be about.

"I asked Joker about it. He says that he's got orders to bring us to Rimbor. Likely a corporation is doing something everyone's against, and Nihlus is how they're going to fix things."

" That's a fair possibility, but I doubt that's everything. I have a fairly decent idea of what Nihlus's true purpose is." Shepard interjected.

"Yeah? Mind informing us dumb-asses?  
"Well, thinking about the situation that we have been told so far, one can find several logical inconsistencies. For one, why would a Spectre ever be just a passenger on a ship? No matter what, they are meant to be secretive as well as work alone: the Council is acting completely out of character."  
"Yeah, well maybe they want to make us all fucking buddy-buddy so they're willing to send over one of their best. Ever thought of that asshole?"  
"Indeed I have, and for a while that satisfied me, but consider this, the _SSV Normandy_ all by itself should make a powerful statement. Adding a Spectre is unnecessary , and at this point, quite dangerous to the situation. If we succeed, the only thing to be recorded will likely be the fact that there was a Spectre on board, should we fail, everyone will note that even a Spectre could not make things succeed. Hence, I am certain there is something else there."

" All you've proven is that people are taking higher risks than normal. Maybe everyone's incredibly sure it'll go alright and are just putting the icing on the cake." While she said that, Saratoga was becoming more and more uneasy with Shepard's words. It had seemed a bit strange for such a secretive person to be scheduled for a mere transport.

"Politicians, greedy, not stupid. Must have reason." Well, there was Lovel speaking for the first time in the conversation.

"Precisely, and realizing that anything he does will be classified, we have to realize that there is one thing, and one thing only that would completely justify not only the risk in taking on a Spectre, but also the reason that they transferred us here from our normal posts. You have to agree that with our personalities, we make poor diplomats."

"Damn straight. So what's the big reason?"  
"Why, it is to make one of us a Spectre of course. As a decorated Spectre, it is unlikely people will question his judgment. And for one reason or another, it could be said that we are some of the best candidates for such a job. Humanity having a Spectre would show unprecedented unity between the Council and out race."  
"Interesting. A challenge. Shall we race?" Unless Saratoga was greatly mistaken, it seemed for the first time Lovel's voice had _excitement_ in it.

"Great, so we gotta impress the shitty bird, this'll be great."


End file.
